


Forgiveness

by orphan_account



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Gen, It's a fic I've never finished, bear with me, family thing?, set after SOG and supposedly having their lives back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9478703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Small family like one-shot. Mu decides to face his demons.





	

He saw him approach the last steps to his temple, leaning over a pillar; he was impressed at the young but firm figure closing the distance between them. It wasn’t nearly the first time he saw the now grown man since he was forced to leave, but even then, seeing him standing tall and proud on his doorstep, gold shimmering bright against his pale lilac hair, green eyes gleaming with a fire so rabid it didn’t fit his always serene demeanor. He was smiling, but something inside him wasn’t. 

“Saga is not here.” He always assumed, since he was a kid, that no one really came around to see him. After all, he wasn’t the Gemini Saint, not really. Even when the cloth had chosen him as well, he never wears it: it’s not his place. It was always his brother’s job, protecting the House; he feels he’s more of an assistant, at best. A replacement. Yet, Aries doesn’t stop walking: he turns around the wall leading to the temple’s back rooms where the twins live in and looks at the closed door in front of him, the weight of his body moving decisively from one foot to the other until he just lets it fall of the wall to his right. He seems fidgety.

“I know. I haven’t come for him” Pause. He wants to say so much more but he doesn’t seem to know how. Kanon feels the anger poorly masked in his voice, but that’s not quite why he’s here. The first time he heard anything about him in thirteen years was after their goddess returned to them; she made him come back home after what she called a “necessary step back”. He called it abandonment; he remembered the fire in his eyes then, so much like the look he had when he walked in. He was furious at himself for it, even when his lady was begging him to forgive. He hadn’t even wore his cloth in over thirteen years; it felt treacherous, dirty. He was a runaway. She said no: he was aware of so much, at such a bad hour. He was an orphan again, a child alone on a battlefield he wasn’t able to fight in, not then. He was a prodigy, yet still a kid. He was smart enough to wait for a better time to strike, strong enough to hold on on his own until then, brave enough to not succumb to the pain of a life on the shadows, loyal enough to be there when she needed him to. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He kneeled in front of her and took her words kindly, but the flames had not extinguished. He knows his eyes must look the same way now, but he doesn’t dare asking him to face him. 

“I heard you were dead. Years ago. But no one dared confirm it.” Funny. Even then he sounded calm. He wonders the thing he must have past to make as perfect gentleman out of that cute energetic kid that was always asking questions. He seems to have some of those answers now. “At some point I’ve gotten nostalgic: you were all dead to me since the day I left, I tried hard to bury every last piece of my memories with you to not regret the day I have to take your final breath. I was convinced I would have to kill you all one day, with the strength of Athena to back me up. I’d have to kill my own family.” Pause. His breath becomes irregular, he’s having troubles keeping his voice steady. “Honestly, I was glad you were dead: I wouldn’t have to kill you myself.” The twin wants to say something, anything. He’s offended, no, heartbroken. The kid was a lighthouse at the center of a cemetery: the place was covered in blood and tears of generations, but his light made it all fade away for at least a moment. The young man with his back turned to him now learned to keep the now less impulsive, more gentle smile throughout the years, but some of that abyss seems to have crept inside of him, engulfing part of that peace that seemed to surround him. He doesn’t dare interrupting. 

“I thought horrible things of you; I have hoped you died bloody, humiliated, alone. By the hand of your brother, if that’s what it takes for you to understand what I had to go through.” Pause. Long, this time. He takes a breath and his voice quivers. “I am sorry. I thought you could have stopped him, I thought you knew. I thought you were the one to stop him and you just didn’t do enough, didn’t care enough.” Pause. 

His almost desperate tone calms. Such a father-like thing to do. “I got a kid. A muvian abandoned on the mountains almost right after birth, dying in the cold. I took him in, taught him everything I could. I tried to imagine that if some evil force took a hold of him I would stop him -kill him, if necessary. It would be my responsibility.” Pause. His hand looks for strength on the cold stone wall; he moves away from it. “I couldn’t.” He turns arounds, tears slowly running through his face. He made himself used to silence. “But you did try; for that alone I’m no one to judge you, and I have.” He doesn’t look at his face, takes a breath, trying to gain some composure, still looking at the floor between them. “If I was left to choose between Kiki and the world, I wouldn’t hesitate.” Kanon can’t stand to watch idly, their Lady would never allow such a thing: he wants to wake him up, to shake him back into reality.

“I lost my family, my brothers, my goddess, my home.”. Mu looks up, finally. “You lost your family, your brothers, your goddess, your home. You made your own, and so did I. You would have given your life for them. You were ready to. I remember the things you did for me when I was a child and the way I thought of you during my, let’s call it, voluntary exile” He smiles shyly, the shame is still there. “You didn’t deserve my rage, you don’t.” He looks away “Saori-san said I was smart enough to know what battles to fight, but I’ve been jousting shadows on my own for too long. Some I can’t let go that easy. I’d wish forgiveness would be as easy as hatred is to embrace, but I just…” His voice breaks, his mouth starts trembling: the proud Aries Saint, dressed in gold, looks like a kid again, biting his lip to stop himself from crying out. This is a scene he just cannot stand.  
In a minute he holds the boy again his chest like he would with any tiny student that came to him in tears: he remembers the way he used to comfort the boys after a particularly vicious training or a personal fight with each other, always trying to seem distant and failing miserably at it. However he can’t remember having held Mu like this. Ever. 

The other older saints used to go to him to teach him games involving his telekinesis or stories to hear him laugh; it would calm them after a long day of training. Yet he can’t remember a wound he would cry over, an argument with other children, a particularly rough scolding from his master. In fact, he would use his healing abilities to help other kids or repeat the stories taught to him to alleviate someone’s crying fit. Since he was a child, he was always taking care of those around him; he never cried to them. Ever. This is the first time he actually saw him vulnerable. 

And he only wanted to say sorry. 

 

He hears himself muttering “It’s fine, i promise it is. Please stop.” over and over to him while the young knight keeps holding him tight by the waist if his shirt, crying over his chest, slowing down little by little.

 

\--

The Gemini Saint walks up the steps from Taurus Temple. He has some trouble still looking at his fellow comrades in the eye, but he was always a proud warrior; he would take whatever it’s in store for him to feel worthy of his place. He has felt and seen only pain around him for years; that’s all He wanted him to see. His hand would be the hand that would doom them all, and him alone couldn’t do anything to stop it. Thousand of lives sacrificed because of orders that came out of him, willing or not. But he doesn’t avoid their eyes: they have their reasons to be weary, rabid, bloodthirsty. But he’s a Gold Saint and he will always look up: he must, for that is all he has left. 

A shaken Aries Saint comes down from his House: puffy eyes, one hand still rubbing the streaks of his face while the other clutches desperately to his cape. He doesn’t seem to see him. “Mu.” The boy lifts up his gaze, his face turns into a mix of angst and hatred, he doesn't say anything, just goes back to stare at the step under his feet while he walks down. He tries to reach him even though he has no idea what to say; “sorry” feels so small, but asking what is going on with him would be either incredibly naive or blatantly self-righteous. He reach out his hand to touch the boy shoulder but he teleports a couple of steps down before he could do so. He can’t go far because of Athena’s seal over the Sanctuary, but he can move away enough when he needs to. Saga turns around, his chest aching to chase after him, still walking slowly down, but he knows best. 

He has nothing to say to him. There is nothing to say that could take the weight crushing on his heart every time one of his boys looks at him like that. He has taken so much from them, as did Ares with him: he can’t forgive him, and himself, easily enough to demand an explanation. 

He keeps his way up. His brother is sitting cross-legged on the floor against the wall leading to their personal rooms, a cigarette burning in his hand. He can’t stop himself from blurting out the question. “What is wrong with him?”

Kanon doesn’t even turn to look at him. “Wrong?” He tooks a drag and lets the smoke out slowly. “He’s probably the sanest of us all. We’re just so deep in shit we don’t know what that means anymore.”

“Hmp.” He’s not one to argue such a point: He’s the one who stayed away, after all. He mimics his twin and sits besides him, taking the cigarette from his hand. Breathes out a soft slow puff of smoke. They aren’t looking at each other and yet they can feel the sorrow in each other.  They haven’t felt this close in years. 


End file.
